Kimono
by maryd
Summary: A little vignette from Kayura's point of view on the kimono


Disclaimer:  YST is owned by Bandai Entertainment.  This is a work of unauthorized, un-royaltied fanfiction, people.

Author's Note:  This is what I would call an "image" fanfiction of Kayura (like an image song), a vignette to flesh out her character more (since our view of her and Masho are only restricted to the TV series).  That, and to get off my lazy ass and actually write and post something.  I once saw an "official"-type picture of Nasutei wearing a pink kimono with a yellow obi (I think the occasion was for New Year's), her hair in a ponytail.  In the picture, she seems to be sitting back on her feet, looking at something in her hand, while the Troopers are standing over and behind her.  It just occurred to me while writing this fanfiction that those were the same colors Kayura wore when she was kidnapped and Kayura's mother seemed to have brown hair.  

Oh, and this little piece of work is dedicated to Crazy Cookie, whose yearning to read something a little different on Fanfiction.Net is what motivated me to start, finish and post this.  In one week, no less.  

Kimono:  An "image" YST fanfiction

            Kayura never really thought about clothes.

When she was a little girl, her mother had to remind her often to keep her kimono clean and her sandals on outside the house.  Little Kayura loved running barefoot around on the grass and after a day of chores and playing, ended up with dirty bare feet shoved into her sandals.  Kaa-sama had reprimanded her using the same tone and frown she used whenever Ka-chan balked at eating her bittermelon.

"One of Our Clan never has dirty feet."  Afterward, her mother made her little daughter always rinse and dry her feet before she stepped into their wood and plaster hut.  When Ka-chan turned seven and took on more chores, her mother gave Kayura a little kimono made from her old one to wear every day.  She also combed and tied up her little daughter's blue-black hair, so much like her father's, and added "keeping her kimono clean" and "her hair neat and tied up" to her daughter's list of daily concerns, since one of "Our Clan", who had been Kami-entrusted with the protection of The People, would never be caught dead looking untidy, or heaven forbid, dirty.

Her dear, dear Tou-sama never had such notions. 

"Let the child alone.  She will grow up soon enough," he said to her Kaa-sama on those happy moments when he was home.  He would catch Kayura around the waist and swing her around and around and around in the air, making the world spin and her hair fly out behind her.  Her straw sandals never stood a chance of staying on; Kayura would shriek with laughter as she reached out her arms, feeling the air flutter her sleeves and tickle her bare feet.

In a few days, he had to leave again, as usual.  One day, he had called Kayura to him and told her he was leaving for some time.

That goodbye was different.

Kayura had wanted to ask her father why Kaa-sama didn't come out to say goodbye with her, like she always did, but her father instead had hugged her tightly, so tightly she couldn't breathe, and made her solemnly promise to be a good girl and to take care of her mother.  She had walked with him to the outskirts of the village, the farthest Kaa-sama allowed her to go, and waved at her Tou-sama until her arm was tired and he was out of sight.

For the next few days, she did as she promised him as she went about her work, keeping her kimono clean, washing her feet and wearing her sandals and making sure her hair stayed tied up, to make her mother happy, and her Tou-sama happy when he came home and learned how good his Ka-chan had been.  This went on until some of the more adventurous village children came running, calling to come look at the strange boats in the sky.  

In the ensuing havoc, all Kayura could think of at first was that the dirty armored soldier holding her was ruining her kimono and wouldn't let her go, and that she would get in trouble with Kaa-sama because that soldier made her lose one of her sandals kicking and flailing at him, and that her Tou-sama would come for her.  He would come soon.

In the Yojakai, it was unbecoming a warrior to be overly concerned about fashion, and fine, sumptous clothing was a great reward to receive from one's lord, precious to come by itself or any other means.  Kayura's Heian court costume was far from ugly, but the five layers of the silk and brocade jacket were HEAVY on her shoulders and arms.  The fashionably too-long red silk hakama didn't help, threatening to trip her in three steps unless she held it up in front of her as she shuffled in the prescribed slow, stately, and ladylike manner up and down the castle corridors, whenever circumstances demanded she absolutely must leave her quarters in her trailing kimono.  That wasn't often, as Master Arago considered it absolutely unladylike for Kayura to be seen standing or walking unnecessarily when she wasn't in her armor.  That meant whenever Kayura ventured outside the castle, even if to practice her kata, she had to change into her armor and tie up her hair.  The same applied if she were to be seen by her fellow warriors or anyone else anywhere.  Her amulet must stay on at all times to help her with the change.  It was needless and inefficient, changing clothes every time she left or entered her quarters, but her Master, who took her in and raised her after the Ningenkai cast her out and abandoned her, demanded it, and in this trivial detail (it was annoying, but pointing this out to Master Arago would only increase the triviality of the entire matter, and demonstrate a sense of childish undiscipline), she obliged him.

So Kayura tried to keep a more positive outlook about the inconvenience of it; the extra weight of her clothing would help keep her posture straight and arms strong, and discourage from her from moving restlessly while she meditated.  But there were times when the Yojakai sky shone yellow and bright and clear, reflecting in the canals and streams surrounding the capital city, and she wished to shed her heavy trappings grounding her, to explore the sky and venture a quick peep into the Ningenkai, whose blue skies and white clouds she could only listen about and imagine enviously from the tellings of the Mashos' exploits, related to her from her peers and the lower ranks.

Before the final battle against Arago, Sh'ten's yoroi defeated Badamon's possession of her, breaking her own makeshift and cursed armor, but it never banished her court costume.  Oddly, it had been Naaza and Rajura who had suggested she wear her kimono when they all went to face the Troopers and congratulate them on their success.  Their reasoning had been that by wearing her kimono instead of Sh'ten's yoroi, she was implying that she was still concerned for the Yojakai's welfare, even though she had just defied Arago.  Sh'ten Doji still had the reputation of a traitor to his former lord, and it would be impolitic (for the rest of the Empire and Sh'ten's last request) for everyone in the Yojakai to think she had bested Sh'ten and used his yoroi to collude with the enemy, backstab their former master, and take over the Empire.  She had agreed with the Masho, for once.  On that confusing, horrible, desperate, liberating day, there were many things on her mind.  Ruling was not one of them.

It wasn't until after they had left the Yojakai themselves that Kayura finally had imperative reason to take off the last everyday reminder of her imprisonment and difficult liberated life in the Yojakai, intending to never see it again, not even for O-bon or New Year's.  Any memory of a little girl being swung in the air by her father, clad in a bright pink kimono and yellow sash her mother gave her, already dimmed by time and absence, was lost even further in practical everyday matters of cleaning, cooking, learning, and Yojakai monitoring.  Modern clothing was more to her liking anyway—it was sensible and comfortable and washable, and she was allowed, even expected, to have more than two outfits at a time and to wear whatever she liked, when she wanted to wear it.  

So when her twentieth physical year approached, Kayura wasn't concerned over what she would wear for her Day of Initiation into Adulthood, that modern ceremony in January when everyone like her in the nation would wear their best clothes and be recognized as full adults in their community.  That is, she wasn't too concerned, until Nasutei-san brought it up.  

Nasutei-san seemed to be absolutely horrified to learn Kayura was going to attend the community ceremony in her usual best black outfit, the one she wore when going to pray for Sh'ten's and her clan's spirits every day at the neighborhood temple.  Kayura would have found Nasutei's reaction rather amusing, if the more sophisticated (and usually level-headed) woman wasn't so genuinely alarmed.  When Kayura explained she could not afford to rent a kimono, much less buy a new suit of clothes, Nasutei immediately offered to lend Kayura one of the Yagyu heirloom kimono.

"Thank you for your kindness.  But I couldn't possibly—I would probably ruin it, I do not know how to put on a modern kimono; it's only one day!  Please do not concern yourself about me…"  So had Kayura protested, trying to find practical reasons why Nasutei, the kindest benefactor to herself and the ex-Masho, should not dress her up like a little doll in Nasutei's own mother's kimono, to be stood up and admired from a distance, never to be touched.  

Her polite excuses and feeble protests fell on deaf ears.  And seeing how much Nasutei wanted to do this for her, Kayura really saw no choice but to give in. 

She mentioned it to the (ex) san-Masho, hoping to receive some sort of outraged protest that Nasutei-dono was really doing too much for her.  But the (ex) san-Masho were glad of the news, and Kayura managed to leave the room after Naaza's comment that she be sure to be careful when wearing that precious kimono and before she could reveal her true feelings, which would inevitably result in one of Rajura's "That is unkind/ungracious/unseemly of you" lectures.

At seven in the morning of the "big day", as Nasutei-san called it, Kayura was wakened from her slumber by an unexpected knock on the front door.  Naaza, who was already up making breakfast, answered it.

"Ohayo, Nasutei-dono.  Come in!  You're here early."

A high-pitched soft voice answered, the words unintelligible through the plaster walls of the apartment.

"Here, let me help you with that.  Would you like something to eat?  Tea?  Coffee?  Tea?  We only have the old green kind, I'm afraid…"

The soft voice demurred.  Kayura could just picture Naaza trying not to run around the kitchen in his effort to please Nasutei-dono, in a frantic attempt to serve her while maintaining some dignity.  Finished with gathering her hair in an impromptu ponytail, she held her hand to her forehead and sighed.

"I could run down to the shop and get some.  No, no!  It's no trouble at all!  It is my duty to see that you are comfortable."  It was surprising, Kayura thought, how fast Naaza could talk in that country southern drawl.  A door slid open and shut—the closet door.  He was actually going to run down the street on a cold dark January morning, to a shop that was still closed, all because Nasutei-dono had asked in politeness for a different type of tea that they didn't drink and therefore did not have.  Of course, knowing Naaza, that would not stop him at all.  She pulled on her bathrobe and came out of her room, squinting in the bright electric light.  

"Ohayo, Nasutei-san.  Naaza-san, the shop is still closed at this hour.  Why don't you go set up the tables for breakfast?"

"But Nasutei-dono wanted…"

Nasutei spoke up, sounding a little strained.  "Gomen Naaza-san.  I do not want to cause you such trouble at this hour.  Actually, coffee would be much better for me right now…"

"Hai!"  Naaza was already heading into the kitchen, his coat still on.

Kayura looked apologetically at Nasutei.  

They were in Kayura's small bedroom now, beginning the process of dressing.  Kayura's eyes went wide at how…narrow the kimono seemed to be, and the assortment of various sashes and pins Nasutei explained were to maintain the proper cylindric shape of the kimono while it was being worn.  First came Kayura's own tabi socks and full slip.  Then came the thin silk robe Nasutei termed "the underkimono", fastened around her waist with a snug cord.

Kayura put on the pink outer kimono and pulled the left side over the right, as was done when putting on bathrobes, but beyond that, she had to leave everything to Nasutei.  The thirteen-foot long yellow obi sash was carefully unrolled and wrapped again and again around her waist.  Kayura looked on curiously as the older woman then pulled out a rectangular piece of cloth-covered hard plastic and slid it between the front of the kimono and the obi belt, then tried not to suck in her breath as Nasutei gripped the ends of the obi in the back and pulled the belt snug.  Nasutei brushed aside Kayura's long ponytail as she tied the obi into a bow in the back.  

"There," Nasutei remarked with satisfaction.  "Now try on these shoes.  Keep your toes straight ahead when you walk and keep your steps small, so the obi won't come apart."

Kayura tried to step forward and found the kimono terribly confining, not allowing her to step more than a foot in any direction.  She shuffled over carefully to where Nasutei put out the shoes.  The zori slippers--straw sandals with wedge heels--were too tight when she tried them on.  Nasutei assured her they should be, so that Kayura would not turn an ankle mincing around properly in the kimono's narrow wraparound skirt.

"Now, the last thing to do is your hair,"  Nasutei announced, much to Kayura's relief.  Kayura took off the sandals, knelt on the tatami and sat back on her heels (expelling a little breath when the hard plastic temporarily dug into her stomach), letting the older woman sit behind her and unbind her long hair.  Kayura was sure if she tried to reach up to do it, she would disturb the yellow obi belt and cause yet another tightening adjustment to be made.  

Kayura felt the topknot twist, tighten, and then loosen.  Her blue-black hair was coming down around her shoulders, over the pink silk of the kimono.  Nasutei leaned over, her own brown hair swaying, looking for the comb.  Kayura held up her plastic comb over her shoulder and closed her eyes, mustering up patience and endurance for the occasion ahead as Nasutei gathered the long locks and begin to comb out her hair.  

It was only for one day.

"You have such pretty hair, Kayura-chan."

Kayura murmured the usual response to a compliment.  Nasutei, hearing Kayura's voice sounding faraway, surmised the younger woman was still groggy over the early rising and kept on combing in silence.

Her scalp felt the gentle tug of the comb as hair was pulled and released, lifted and dropped over her shoulders.  The edge of the comb scraped soothingly against her head as Nasutei parted her hair down the middle, and light touches dropped on her neck and shoulders as Nasutei picked fallen stray hairs off the kimono.  Kayura relaxed, letting her shoulders droop slightly.

 A memory drifted closer with each careful stroke of the comb, unexpected, and unbidden…

"You must keep your hair neat and tied up, my child."  

Eight-year-old Kayura was kneeling on the tatami, looking straight ahead, keeping absolutely still, as her mother, her own long brown hair hanging down her back, combed out her daughter's hair by the early morning light.  "You have your father's hair, so fine it will slip out of these bonds if they are the least bit loose.  You must make sure it will not come flying out when you move around."  

She smiled a little at the memory.  Nasutei was now gathering all of Kayura's hair high up near the top of her head, combing to make it smooth and even.  She felt the topknot being tied back in place, and then the bow tied over that.

"What do you think?"  Kayura opened her eyes and she was back in her bedroom in the twentieth-century Ningenkai, kneeling on tatami.  This time she was facing a hand mirror Nasutei was holding out to her.  

Kayura smiled a little at the reflection, her kimono clean, her sandals on, and her hair neatly tied up.

Her mother would be proud.


End file.
